No Escape
by addicted2airwolf
Summary: Story 6. Hawke and his brother seek to return to some sort of normalcy, but soon discover that it is an impossible goal...
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

A cool wind blew in from the lake, sending a shiver up his spine, but Saint John Hawke continued to sit perfectly still, staring off into the dark sky. It was a beautiful night, but as cold as it was clear; the moonlight danced over the waters and soft rustling of leaves could be heard, but tonight was far from peaceful.

There was something bothering String, it was like he left out half of everything he said, habitually ending his phrases mid-sentence, and was constantly antsy about something. He was up in the middle of the night on a reoccurring basis, reading or fiddling with something, wandering the cabin even, but it seemed he hardly slept - this he would know because he was doing a similar thing on a regular basis. They had spent nearly two weeks up here, and he had only managed one night of undisturbed sleep. The relationship between the two of them was also somewhat stressed. He believed that in time it would improve, but right now they couldn't figure out exactly what to say to each other.

He couldn't complain much; it was better then being in the hospital or the psych ward where they seemed to be ready to put him as soon as he was recovered enough from the physical injuries, and it was definitely a lot better then being stuck in a cage doing nothing but bake in the sun all day. But he still felt there was something String was holding back from him, wanted to tell him even, but couldn't quite.

The cold finally beginning to get to him, he slowly made his way inside and back to the sofa where he had been sleeping, or at least trying to. Everything he did brought back memories - the carpet beneath his feet, the constant ticking of the old grandfather clock, the smell of the pines - it all reminded him of their childhood and early teenage years. When it was hot he thought of Cambodia and Vietnam; when it was cold he relived getting dumped into the cold lake, the last glimpse he got to see of his parents. No matter what he did he just couldn't escape the past.

Sitting on the edge of the sofa, he looked around the room warily as if someone was trying to sneak up on him. Or maybe someone was. Whirring around suddenly, he came face to face with his brother.

"Oh, it's you."

"Nice to see you too. I didn't wake you did I? Was trying not to."

"No," Saint John answered, his heartbeat slowing again to a normal cadence, "just startled me. I still don't sleep enough for you get much chance to wake me."

"You can take the bed if you want, might help a little," String offered, although sounding a bit skeptical himself.

"You don't sound so sure of that."

"Well it didn't help me much, but that doesn't mean it won't help you."

"You don't….. did you ever have the nightmares?"

"I don't know anyone who came back and hasn't, I have had more than my fair share though, still do sometimes."

"It does get better though?"

"Eventually." He paused as if deliberating whether or not he should share anymore, but at last decided to continue. "It was hard at first, there's no denying that. I felt so guilt for coming back when so many others didn't, you didn't. I pushed everyone else away, even Dom, locked myself up here whenever I wasn't chasing some lead for almost a year. After that I joined the FIRM and still tried to avoid reality. I guess that's what I regret the most; Dom did his best to be supportive when he was hurting too and all I did was ignore him and push him away."

"What else? I'd say we have a lot to catch up on, but it's more like _I _have a lot to catch up on."

"I guess I'll come straight out with it, there's quite a bit to share and I've got to start somewhere. I did a few missions for the FIRM, but quickly found out I wasn't a match for long term undercover ops, at least not with that partner."

"Who was your partner?"

"Her name was Lexa Cole, but she isn't particularly important."

"Fine, I'll ask you about her later," he compromised, as much a threat as a promise. "Continue your story telling."

"The FIRM started a new project and where that's gone is a whole series of stories in an of itself."

"I still have a hard time picturing you as a company man, it just doesn't seem like a match to me."

"And you'd be right, it wasn't a match. I competed for the position of chief test pilot on the project known as Airwolf and actually got it, but the creator, a crazed psychopath named Moffet, and I had our differences so I left."

"Left? You just walked away from a job like that?"

"Yeah, if I hadn't chances are I wouldn't still be here today either. During the presentation for the senator he blew up the control tower and killed all but a couple of the people there, took the thing to Libya."

"The thing - Airwolf - you want to be a little more specific?"

"You saw it; it was what was providing air support and transportation from the camp in Cambodia."

"Wait, now I'm confused. You said you left and Moffet took it to Libya, how did… How was is there then?"

"It's story I prefer not to discuss, but none of the rest is going to make much sense otherwise, so I guess I'll have to.

"Airwolf isn't just a chopper, and by that I mean more than she's a dream to fly. She's got state of the art weapons and surveillance equipment, stealth capable and can do over mach one, it's even been claimed she's somewhat of a living creature, a merc's dream, most anyone's dream for that matter. Do you remember Archangel - the FIRM agent we dealt with when we were doing some of those covert ops?"

Saint John thought back a minute then nodded. "He was that kind of weird one with all the good-looking assistants that had a thing for white, right?"

"One and the same. He's a bit more battle worn now, but still at the FIRM. Now deputy director, but doing more less the same thing. About two year after I left the project he came offering me a job, for a million dollars I was to retrieve Airwolf from Libya. I told him I wanted information on your whereabouts instead. I'm not going into details, but I did recover Airwolf fro Libya, but I 'lost' my escort home and hid the Lady - that's what Dom calls her - said I wasn't going to return it until I knew what happened to you - you brought back if you were alive and your body if you weren't. I don't know where that leaves me now though; I guess I'll have to return Airwolf and move on. The Committee still doesn't like me, that much hasn't changed, so Archangel supplied me with armament, fuel, and updates on what everyone else was doing to try to seize Airwolf for themselves in exchange for my flying certain missions for him."

"I see" he commented as she absorbed all the new information, "wow, I really have missed a lot."

"I won't say you haven't missed anything, but you'll catch up."

"Yeah, maybe."


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

Shoving a pre-algebra book into an already full backpack, Le van Hawke climbed up to his feet and slung the bag over his shoulder.

"All finished?" Cait asked.

"Yeah, but when am I going back with Uncle String?"

Caitlin sighed. She didn't have an answer to that one. The poor kid had spent a week with a friend followed by another two at her small apartment and still had no news on when he would get to go home. He might even get a new dad while he was at it, talk about a rough childhood. He would have to find out sooner or later though, and obviously String wasn't planning on gracing them with his presence any time soon.

"I don't know Le," she answered truthfully. "String has some things he needs to work out, but I'll radio him in the morning." And if he actually answers this time, she thought, then I _might _be able to give you a better answer.

"He can stay with me for a while if you want," Dom offered.

"I don't mind watching him, enjoy the company actually. I just wish I had a better answer to give him."

"We could always fly in ourselves," Dom suggested.

"You're worried about them too?"

"I don't know what to do really. Trying to keep them in the hospital or even go to a shrink isn't going to happen, you and I both know that. I just remember what String was like after he got back and I don't want to go through that again; but what can I do other than offer all my love and support?"

\A/

Night was closing in fast again, his least favorite part of the day at last came. He knew he could overcome the nightmares that haunted his dark hours if only he could discredit or disprove them. He couldn't though. They were real. He was there, and try as he might to forget the past, it was all he had.

It was raining, something many people felt soothing and calming as they tried to sleep. But not him. To him it was a reminder of storms and crashing waves, and of the miles they would have to trek though thick jungle and murky streams.

He laid down on the sofa, pulling the quilts around him to ward off the chill in the early evening air, but he was afraid to close his eyes, afraid of what very real images he would relive tonight. Something else caught his ear though, a strange noise so oddly familiar yet more pleasant than he could remember. It was a somewhat mournful sound, sad yet oddly comforting, coming from the loft. It wasn't a piece he had heard anywhere else before, but finally identified it as what had to be String playing the cello in his bedroom.

He's come a long way from his cat strangling days in the living room of Dom's apartment, he thought, finally letting his heavy eyelids droop and allowing himself to drift off.

\A/

The following morning he was woken by the rays of sunshine sifting through the window and smell of fresh coffee. Saint John yawned and stretched as he sat up, refreshed by a full night's sleep.

"Do you want sausage?" String asked. "It's a once in a lifetime offer from me. Or maybe Dom just left so much meat up here Tet can't eat it all and I'm stuck trying to get rid of it."

"I had forgotten you were vegetarian, but if you don't mind…"

"Gotta get rid of it somehow."

"Do you need any help? It's been… it's been a while anyhow since I've done any cooking, but I'd be willing to give it a try."

"Okay then. How about you get the sausage out of the freezer and find something to fry it in. Pots are in the cabinet under the sink, and throw in a couple for Tet while you're at it."

He found the sausage without much problem in the freezer stocked almost solely of frozen fish and vegetables, the pan however was nowhere to be found.

"You said there was a pan in here, did they change the meaning of pan while I was gone, or is it really in here?"

"Should be." The younger brother stepped away from the eggs long enough to look under the sink, but had no better luck. Walking back to the stove, he couldn't help but laugh. "I found it."

"Where?"

"On the stove. I was using it the whole time, sorry I'm not used to this fixing multiple things at the same time thing. I've got another one in the cabinet next to it, and that one should actually be there."

"Can't find it either," Saint John complained.

"What? It should be-"

"Just kidding." He held up the seldom used frying pan, an evil grin spreading across his face, "now I see why you make me fix my own sausage though."

"Yeah, the same reason I should dump this pot of grits over you head," he retorted, angry façade ruined by the laughter that now spread throughout the kitchen.

\A/

"Still no answer at the cabin, Dom. I'm getting worried about them. You know they weren't completely well when they went out there."

What she was saying had plenty of merit, he knew. He had dropped the two brothers off at the cabin after making his own protests, knowing that they'd find a way out there whether he helped or not. No contact after two weeks wasn't a good thing though.

"Try them one more time. If you don't get them after that we'll fly out there and see what trouble they've gotten themselves into."

She attempted the call again, but with no better luck.

"Still nothing."

"We have a few hours before the next job, let's go ahead now."

"I'm right behind you."

Forty five minutes later Dominic landed the Jet Ranger on the end of the dock, climbing out even before the rotors had completely stopped.

Inside, it looked like the usually neat cabin had been ransacked. Blankets and pillows littered the living room floor, trinkets were off center, and some in the floor. The kitchen looked as if the cupboards and refrigerator had exploded; a half empty coffee pot was left unfinished on the counter, dirty dishes of all kinds cluttered the sink and stovetop, and there was enough food in the floor to feed Tet for weeks.

"Food fight?" Caitlin guessed.

"I can't see String for that type."

"But where are they now?"

"Good question."

"Looks like they went out the back door," Le said, indicating to the footprint in the scrambled eggs by the door.

Sure enough, only a minute later the two brothers reappeared laughing and playing from beyond the pathway leading toward the mountains.

"My housekeeping doesn't meet your approval anymore?" String quipped as he caught the disapproving look from his surrogate father.

"It wasn't quite what I was expecting, especially from you. But I was more concerned about what had happened to you. We haven't heard from either of you in over two weeks."

"Sorry, must've forgotten to turn the radio back on."

"Not funny."

"No, it's true. I hadn't needed it and never thought about it."

"Are you planning on gracing us with you presence any time soon, or should I expect not to not be seeing you for the next year?"

"Dom, I'm sorry. I wasn't supposed to be that long, I…."

"Is it going to be that long again though? That's my question."

"I…" he trailed off. "I don't know. I sure hope not."

"I hope not too, kid. Just do me a favor and answer the radio next time, if nothing else to tell me you still don't want any visitor and save me the trip out here."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

"Sounds pretty good," Saint John complimented his brother as the cello piece came to an end, "a lot better than I remember."

"I've had a few years to work on it."

"I guess that's true. Uh, about earlier today…"

"Yeah, I understand if you need more time, goodness knows I did and I went through a lot less, but I need to at least visit the real world. It's not fair to completely shut out the others and there's still one more subject I need to bring up."

"I get it. This has been fun, but I know it can't last forever. Besides, I should talk with Dom and I'd like to get to know Cait a little better. She's who - your girlfriend I'm guessing?"

"No," he answered right away. "She works at the hangar now, but she's just a friend."

"Who happens to be a girl," Saint John pressed. "So, how long have you known her?"

"About two years, but it's not what you're thinking it is. I might have thought about it once, but not now."

"What happened?"

"I'd rather not discuss it."

"Should I ask her instead then?"

"No. It wouldn't do you any good. She doesn't know enough about my past experiences."

"Will you at least tell me her name?"

"The latest was Gabrielle Admir. Now, about that other thing," String said, quickly changing the subject.

"Fine, what other thing?"

"This morning when Dom and Cait came by, you saw the kid with them, right?"

"Yeah why?"

"Is it possible he's yours?"

"Mine? You think he's mine?"

"I don't know for sure, but Michael checked it out and it's a definite possibility. He was brought here by his Aunt Minh. Her sister, the boy's mother, was married to an American though, and Minh did have pictures of you and a ring, not pictures of you two together though. Some of the details didn't quite work out, but I thought maybe…"

"Maybe he could be my son," Saint John finished. "It's possible I guess, but if so I never knew it. I would have done things differently if I had."

"You had no way of knowing, don't even know for certain that he it."

"What's his name?" Saint John asked, feeling suddenly lost in a time warp years behind the rest of the world. The boy had to be at least ten, perhaps a little older if it was his, a decade he had been absent, a stranger, to his own son.

"Le van Hawke," String answered, "he's twelve, and currently a responsibility I've been neglecting to take care of."

"You? But I thought-"

"His aunt was killed, the sponsor husband and I reached an agreement and I've legally adopted him."

String with a kid, not his, but a kid just the same. It was hard to imagine. He always had been good with children in a special way, but he was still looking at his as the rangy nineteen year old youth stuck fighting a war halfway around the world from home, even if he had volunteered to go.

"If it won't bother you, I'd like to go ahead and bring him back here and let him get back into the usual flow of things."

"It's alright with me," Saint John replied hastily, afraid of being more of a burden; in all actuality he couldn't begin to describe how he felt about it. He wanted to be able to jump right back into society without all the hitches along the way, but that wasn't going to happen. He knew that, but even his brother's simple black and white outlook on life seemed to be a lot more complicated these days. A top secret military helicopter, a son he never knew about, someone he was almost positive loved String and he probably lover her back but couldn't show it because of some past experience, the list could go on, all of it complicating the simplicity of life and leaving him far behind and very confused.

\A/

Landing the Jet Ranger on the dock, Caitlin let Le out, fighting the urge to go inside herself. They had requested their space and she had intended to give it to them.

But she'd also seen what it was doing to Dom on the other side of this paradise.

Shutting down the engines, she walked up the pathway to the cabin, barging in without bothering to knock.

"Hawke," she addressed, realizing she might have to amend what she called him as all three looked up at her from their comfortable looking positions on the sofa. "Stringfellow Hawke, and you knew that too, get over here."

Obediently he walked across the room toward her although looking none too excited about it.

"I need to talk to you."

"You appear to be doing that already," String retorted.

"Very funny; let's go outside," she said, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him out the door with her.

"What is it?"

"You. I know you're happy to have your brother and maybe Le's father back, we're happy for you too, but you can't just pull away from the rest of the world. Yes, Saint John undoubtedly has a few problems to work out, but he's more competent than you're probably giving him credit for. You and I owe him our lives as much as he owes us, you know; we never would have made it to that hospital is it hadn't been for him."

"I get it, but what's it hurt to spend a few weeks at the cabin? It wouldn't be the first time I had."

"That's it, you don't get it. You've got your brother, but for Dom it's like loosing you both all over again. You're never around, don't even answer when he radios the cabin, then you were downright rude to him when he comes out here just to check on you because he was worried. Saint John is as much a son to him as you are, and he hasn't gotten to even have a good conversation with him yet. You're so caught up with how happy you are you completely ignore the needs and wants of others."

"I've been looking for him half my life, what's wrong with wanting to spend a little time alone with him? I'm not saying he can't ever talk to him again. I just said we needed some time away."

"How can you be so smart and yet so pigheaded?! I simply don't understand it. You need to think about it though. Just remember, if you don't figure it out soon, you can't expect the rest of the world to wait on you. I don't know about Dom, but I can't wait forever."

\A/

**That Evening**

**10:52 pm**

Saint John and Le had talked for hours after dinner, seemingly having a lot in common, but he was no more sure he was the boy's father, if anything less sure. Le didn't remember much, but what he did wasn't matching up with Saint John's accounts very well. For starters, Le was born five years after Saint John supposedly went MIA. His brother was saying something about being hurt pretty badly and some locals took pity on him and nursed him back to health; he'd had the intention of rejoining his unit but got captured before he ever made it back. The question was then - how long was he missing that he wasn't a prisoner? Saint John didn't know, he said he'd been with them a while, but exactly how long he couldn't say. Five years was doubtful though.

He picked up his bow and rested the Stradivarius cello against his leg, but in mind he was far away. Maybe Cait had a point though. She was awfully upset about something to come in the way she had anyway.

Letting his mind drift further, he thought back to when he had first come back from 'Nam.

_He was the last to leave the C-130, slowly making his way out, every muscle and bone in his body protesting at the slightest movement. He was lucky to even be coming back, or so he was told; currently he wasn't feeling so lucky. Saint John was still MIA, and he felt like every step he was taking was going to be his last, not to mention the guilt of leaving his brother in that forsaken country. A week in a field hospital then transferred to a clinic in Germany until he was fully recovered, or at least well enough to travel back to the states. But he still wondered it one could ever fully recover from the pain he had been through. Every other person in his group was dead, and he'd barely made it out alive himself. Bad intel and they'd walked straight into a trap, nobody's fault - that's what he was told. But the others were still dead and that had to be __**somebody's **__fault. Personally he couldn't remember anything of it other than waking up four days later barely able to move and with the worst headache of his life._

_He was home now though and that had to count for something. Dom met him before he was hardly off the plane, wrapping him in a giant bear hug and crushing his fragile body in the most loving embrace he could imagine. Tears rolled down his cheeks and onto his uniform which now hung loosely over his leaner than usual form._

"_So glad to have you home, kid," he heard Dom say, a whisper choked be tears._

* * *

_Almost a year later he was no closer to locating his missing brother and while the physical injuries may have healed the emotional ones still felt painful and raw. Today he had decided to brave coming up to the hangar for the day, although by now he was beginning to regret it. It had been three and half weeks since he'd last seen Dom and even then it had only been through a partially opened living room window. Today the disappointment in Dom's eyes as he waited vainly outside the cabin replayed over and over again through his head, the evident hurt as he hopefully knocked on the front door, doubtful this visit would hold any less rejection than the last._


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

Deja vue, he thought as he waited on the Santini Air Jet Ranger to pick him up. Last night he had come to the realization Caitlin had been right all along, and he needed to stop trying to use previous mistakes to justify recent ones. After their parents died, Dom had been nothing but kind, but he'd pulled away; after 'Nam Dom greeted him with open arms, not resentful in the least at him for coming back when Saint John didn't. Again, he had rejected the care and comfort offered him. Now he was hurting the people that mattered most to him again because he was too stupid and stubborn to learn from his past mistakes.

Before it was ever visible he heard the Ranger on its way. Letting out a deep sigh, he gathered himself and walked out to the dock to meet it, surprised to find Saint John and Le following him out. "You don't have to-" was all he managed to get out before Saint John interrupted.

"Yeah, I do."

"I'm the one being an idiot about the whole thing."

"I _overheard _part of Cait's tirade last night," he explained. "Maybe I haven't done it to the same extent yet, but it's pretty much the same thing. I've got nightmares and plenty of memories I'd rather forget, but staying at the cabin alone with nothing but time to think isn't going to help."

This time it was Dom who brought the chopper around the mountainside, flaring and landing abruptly on the dock.

All three men climbed aboard without a sound, caught in a sudden awkward silence.

"Sorry Dom," it was String who broke the silence for once. " I could've been more thoughtful about everyone else instead of just myself."

"If that's an apology, then I accept."

Maybe in word, Hawke thought, he knew their relationship still wasn't all it could be and definitely not as it was before. But in time it could be restored with a little work.

"Do you have a little time while you're in town?"

"Yeah, sure. What do you need?"

"I was hoping you could take up a student pilot, she asked for you specifically and wouldn't take no for an answer. I have plenty of paperwork to catch up on from the last few weeks."

"She asked for me?"

"Stringfellow Hawke and wouldn't take anyone else."

"Anyone we know?"

"I didn't recognize her, told her you were away for a while and I didn't know when you'd be back, but she insisted I make sure you were here."

Lovely, probably an old enemy or some crazy person. "I guess I'll take it," he agreed, " but you better be glad I owe you."

\A/

"A no show," String pronounced at two, exactly an hour and a half after the mystery client had been supposed to show up. "What do you say we finally get some lunch now?"

"Anything to get away from this mountain of paperwork," Dominic agreed, getting up from the desk and joining him. Sandwiches from Sam's shop?"

"On me."

\A/

Walking back from the sandwich stand across the street from the airfield, Dominic went inside first, stopping so abruptly Hawke ran into the back of him.

"Momma mia, what happened here?"

Desk drawers hung open, papers were scattered across the floor and folders laid strewn randomly about.

"Somebody was looking for something."

"But we were gone, what - ten minutes? I don't see how someone can make such a mess in so short a time."

Even parts boxes were overturned and shipping materials littered the floor. The mess created in less than ten minutes would take them hours to clean up and make running the business impossible until it was reorganized.

"What about Cait? She wasn't around was she? They might've hurt her or-"

"She's fine, at least she should be. After she got back last night she took some vacation time. Probably went to visit her parents or something I guess, it was kind of all of the sudden."

"I should have seen it coming," he murmured.

"What?"

"Nothing." Maybe she would come back, hopefully he hadn't lost his friendship with her over something as trivial in the grand scheme of things. Then again, maybe she wouldn't.

Suddenly the phone rang, interrupting his thoughts and bringing him out of the world of musings and dreams.

"Get that will ya?" Dom requested, bending down to pick up the entire file cabinet's contents.

"Hello?" he answered. "Yes, oh…. Yeah I'll be right there," he answered before hanging up with an enormous sigh. "Uh, Dom, could I borrow the jeep?"

"What's wrong now?'

"I need to go get Sinj and Le."

'Is everything okay?"

"Sort of. I'll explain later, promise." he grabbed the keys as he half jogged out of the building out to the jeep, the sound of tires squealing as he drove away audible a moment later.

He weaved in and out of traffic, trying to get to the restaurant from where Le had called from as quickly as possible. Figuring out which restaurant along the road wasn't a difficult task due to the crowd forming outside of it, finding somewhere to park without running over anyone, however, was proving to be much more difficult. Finally settling for an empty space two doors down, he shut off the engine and jogged down to the diner. Shoving past the multitude and getting shoved back several times in return, at last he reached where a concerned looking women was looking over his brother.

"Uncle String!" Le greeted.

"You're Mr. Hawke?" the woman asked.

"Is he alright?"

"Did he anytime recently go to a war zone or have some other traumatic experience?" she inquired, completely ignoring his question.

"Yeah, he just got back to the states about two weeks ago after being a POW for at least a decade, but that still doesn't-"

"I think he basically just had a flashback, but he actually thought he was back over there. He'll probably be back to normal in a few minutes but he really needs medical help - a psychiatrist at the very least, but most likely a full mental evaluation."

"Are you calling my brother crazy now?" he demanded. "Who are you that you can-"

"Danisha White," she answered, cutting him off again, "Or you could say the friend of a friend. I'm sure you know a bit about PTSD, unfortunately he's got it a lot worse than you did; and the same treatment doesn't work for everyone. He'll require medication and professional help, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's crazy."

"And it doesn't necessarily mean he's not either, right?"Hawke retorted cynically.

"Well, that's true, but he can be assured that he will be adequately cared for no matter what the case."

"He's not an animal and I expect more than '_adequate_ _care,' _so if you'll excuse us I'll take him back home and we'll both be just fine."


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

**The Cabin**

**5:30 pm**

"I don't know how wise of an idea this was," Hawke commented as he walked in the front door. The cabin wasn't set up to be sleeping this many in the first place, but now it looked like a tornado had gone through it too. Books and folders were strewn across the floor, drawers had been emptied and dumped, and the cabinets had obviously been rifled through.

"And before you say anything, we _did_ clean up before we left."

"It looks like somebody was looking for something, like at the hangar."

"But what could they be looking for?"

"What are they always looking for?" Hawke answered with his own question.

"Yeah, but why here and the hangar? We don't have much of anything Airwolf related either place."

"We'll deal with that in a minute. You wanna help me get Saint John up to the loft for now, he's completely wiped out and I'm not far from it."

Dominic joined him in carrying the half conscious man up the stairs, but continued his conversation. "Have any idea who it could've been - the one who wrecked the place?"

"Not really, at the moment I'm trying to drag my brother up the stairs without any help though and that doesn't give me much chance to think about anything else."

"Oh yeah," Dom rejoined him, ripping himself away from the torrent of thoughts that had gone through his head as he gazed over the railing down at the disaster below.

At last they had Saint John settled in the bed upstairs and could face the other remaining problem - downstairs.

"I'll check the stuff that should be in the fridge and see what's still good if you work on the cabinets and pantry," Dom offered.

"Sounds good, but only after a coffee break," String agreed. "I'm beat."

"I second that."

"Alright, coffee it is. That is, if I can find it…"

\A/

**The Next Morning**

**7:21 am**

Blinding rays of sunshine flooded in through the small window, waking Saint John yet again. It had been a rough night, but unlike the first several times he was _really _awake this time.

The first thing he realized was that he was back at the cabin, not the restaurant he had passed out at or any of the various locations he had woken up earlier. That was, of course, assuming this time was actually real; it had seemed convincingly real every other time, but these days he often had a hard time discerning what was and what wasn't. Why would he be up here though in his brother's room? In his bed? No one else was around to answer the questions that were quickly mounting up, so he crept quietly to the banister railing and peered down at the room below, surprised to find Dom snoring contently on the sofa, and Le was draped across a chair. String was no where in sight however.

Making his way carefully down the stairs, he went outside hoping to miraculously find an answer to all of his questions.

And he did.

Walking up from the dock from the leaving white Long Ranger was none other than Stringfellow Hawke. He had company though. A tall slender woman with shoulder length blond hair and striking blue eyes accompanied him as he walked towards the cabin.

So that's your girlfriend, he thought with a grin, looks like a good choice to me.

His brother's face, he observed as they got closer, didn't appear to show the same pleasure though. On the contrary, quite the opposite; he looked somewhat relieved, but certainly not happy.

"Might as well open a bed and breakfast," he heard String grumble as they stepped up onto the porch, hardly stopping for greetings.

The woman went directly to the kitchen, making herself at home whilst having a cup of coffee.

She definitely knew her way around, he noted. Whoever she was, she had spent a fair amount of time here to learn his brother's odd habits. She set the coffee mug on the breakfast bar and easily found a suitable breakfast for herself, settling down to eat until String returned to sit down beside her.

Usually he wasn't too fond of eavesdropping, or at least didn't used to be before he found that often it was the only way he could stay alive while he had been in Cambodia, but it was killing him not to know what they were saying. Just when he had decided to "join" the conversation, he saw String indicate up to the loft and she nodded, asking him only one more inaudible question before heading upstairs. His brother, now looking even more agitated, cleaned up her cereal bowl and prepared himself a large mug of coffee before even making any indication of thinking about joining the mystery woman in the loft.

"Sinj, you can stop hiding by the door, and I know you're there," he called out, bringing back memories of the two of them snooping around as kids trying to find out any detail they could about their parents' conversations.

Guiltily Saint John obeyed, seating himself at the breakfast bar beside String, sending a fleeting glance up toward the stairs.

"How much did you overhear?"

"Nothing. Honestly. I couldn't hear a word you said."

"I'd better explain then because it's nothing like I know you are thinking it is. First off, she is absolutely, positively, **not **my girlfriend."

"You sure you aren't in denial?"

"Most of the time I like to firmly plant myself there, but not in this case. Her name is Lexa, and personally I detest her, but Michael seemed to thing I'm running a refugee boarding house or something."

"I thought…..never mind."

"What?"

"It's nothing. I'm probably just getting people mixed up again, wouldn't be the first time."

"If you were thinking Lexa Cole, my ex-partner I told you was dead, they are one and the same. I _thought _she was dead."

"Interesting. Alright, you may continue."

"She got plenty of people mad at her again and needs somewhere to stay and for some reason Michael thought the cabin would be a good place. I don't know where he got that idea, because it sure wasn't from me, but he did."

"What kind of trouble is she in anyway? From the little I've heard, it wounds like if anything she'd be in more danger here."

"Michael shows great confidence in my ability to control myself, he'll know he was wrong when he comes back and finds one of us dead on the floor, just clean up the mess will ya - I work hard to keep this place halfway decent looking, and blood is terrible about staining."

"Ha ha, very funny. How long is she staying, and more to the point, where is she going to be stay?"

"I don't know to both of those. I've told you what Michael told me, I don't think Lexa is operating on the same schedule though. Evidently, she was the one that tore up the hangar and cabin looking for something from back when we worked together. I don't think I'm going to have anything she wants, but if I do and it'll get her out of my hair, I don't see a problem with her taking an old useless piece of junk I've been storing for years."

"Why exactly do you dislike her so much? I mean, there has to be some reason."

"Like I said before, we were partners and she works better alone."

"Hey, you remember this?" Lexa asked, holding up a picture of a man that vaguely resembled his brother and an attractive young German woman.

"Is that you two?"

Hawke nodded. "Yeah, it was."

In the photo they looked so at peace with one another, the way she meshed with him looked so natural, his hand around her waist. In actuality he's been afraid she would give away his true identity, or more directly kill him right there; he certainly wouldn't have thought her to be above such behavior. For the last month, their "home life" had been nothing but constant fighting and he feared it was beginning to show. One way or another their façade was coming to an abrupt end and there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it.

"How'd you get out?" String asked out of the blue. "We all thought you were dead, saw you burn."

"Simply put, it wasn't me."

"How many blonds are there in this Asian village? Because I don't remember very many when I was down there."

"You think I cut my hair for no good reason? I got out though is what matters, just like I'm getting out of here and that's what matters to you, am I right?"

"I guess so."

"Do you have anything else from our old FIRM days? Maybe something somebody would want to kill for?"

"Not that I can think of. I'm not really into keeping things like that."

"Sure you aren't, just like you don't keep a top secret prototype helicopter hidden in a cave in the middle of nowhere. The Committee's getting antsy about that too you know, just disappearing for weeks on end and them not having their most prized possession. Technically, you _are _supposed to be giving that back now; undoubtedly Michael will be demanding that any time. Now, you sure you don't have _anything_?"

"Why don't you answer that question yourself? You already seem to know everything else. Just like you I have a Walther PPK in my dresser and the Colt is behind the bar."

"You forgot the 9mm in the living room," Lexa pointed out. "So what? You know my style, that doesn't mean you can't have something hidden elsewhere."

"The nine is no longer in the living room," Hawke corrected, revealing the gun previously tucked into his waistband, "you should be more observant is you want to remain supposedly the best."

"Touché. You did catch me there, I'll be sure not to let it happen again."

What a strange pair, Saint John thought to himself. They can't stand each other, but they play games, always trying to one up the other. With that many guns lying around, it was a miracle in and of its self they didn't just up and decide to duel each other. Neither really wanted to see the other dead, but otherwise couldn't care less, and the more tricks and injuries inflicted upon the other the better.

"There's not anything," String answered. "Anything else I had at the time was burned when we left."

"Oh yeah." She remembered the emergency evacuation with intolerable clarity. Agents had died, first only a couple, then nearly everyone they knew. Burning the important documents and anything that would identify them had consisted of setting the entire building on fire as they ran out, hoping they'd catch the last plane out instead of being left for dead.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

The far off sound of rotors only tickled his sense of hearing, but it was quickly approaching. Hawke stepped out front onto the porch, looking for the source of the noise. Soon the FIRM helicopter came into view; it wasn't Michael or any of his angels though. The Committee head himself Zeus stepped out of the helicopter and strode purposefully toward him.

"Hawke," Zeus addressed in an all business tone, "we need to talk."

"We can talk out here," Hawke replied, not about to invite the company man in for a social visit, not to mention the current state of his living room.

"Alright," the dark suit clad man acquiesced. "Straight to the point, we want Airwolf back."

"Why am I not talking to Michael about that? He's the one I deal with."

"We have reason to believe his duties have been compromised, and he's been semi permanently reassigned."

"Where? When? Why didn't he bother to tell anyone?"

"Elsewhere, recently, and it wasn't an option. Airwolf is rightfully the FIRM's and we will get it back, the only question is how we do it. You can either hand it over or we'll pry it out of your hands if necessary."

"My cold, dead hands. I deal with Michael or I don't deal."

"You know I could send a hit squad for this," Zeus threatened.

"I'll be waiting for you when you do."

\A/

"Lexa."

The single word, stern and authoritative, stopped her in her tracks. Turning slowly to meet his gaze, she replied, "Hawke."

"What did you do? And skip the crap because things are getting way too personal to waste time with it."

"What makes you think I did anything?"

"Lexa," he repeated, his tone deadly, "I mean it. I saw Michael this morning when he dropped you off; now Zeus says he's gone. You want to explain what's going on?"

"You're not going to like it much," she warned. "But Michael knew it was coming. You did too if you think about it. The Committee doesn't like him much more than they like you, he's just more tactful; he worked his way up though and they didn't have a logical reason to fire him. When Airwolf came into the picture and you kept it they suddenly had reasoning. I've heard even higher ups from Washington have been involved, but however it happened he's gone and I was left to help you."

"Help me? What part of we never wanted to see each other again doesn't he understand?"

"I was the only one available, okay? Zeus's threats to send a hit man are going to be the least of your problems if you don't get it together. Your whole family is in danger, not to mention Airwolf; I've kept in touch with Michael as much as I can, but admittedly it isn't going so great."

"I don't have anywhere else to go, and it's hard to sneak off anywhere when I've got everyone one together, but I can't leave them either."

"Separate then."

She replied with the only logical answer, but it wasn't such an easy thing for him to do. He worked too hard to keep what family he had to do that. He'd already managed to push Caitlin away, and that was more than enough.

"I can't do it. I'll stand here and fight if necessary, but I can't run. It'll never end that way."

"Is that really a good idea? Le and your brother…."

"Probably not," he admitted, "but unless Dom wants to take them and run for it, there aren't any other options."

"Alright, your choice. You do know who you're dealing with though - the higher ups - don't you?"

"I know it's not going to be easy."

"Far from it," Lexa agreed. "It's unlike anything you've ever faced before."

\A/

Thankfully, before Michael had been "reassigned" he had seen to the restocking of Airwolf's armament and they had plenty of it, Hawke thought as he stood at the cavernous opening and gazed inside at the sleek black helicopter. Giving Dom a thumbs up, he watched the tri-colored Jet Ranger disappear into the clouds then stepped inside, lost in thought. Had Michael really known what was going to happen? If so, why hadn't he told anyone, given a slight intimation to what their futures would hold? Or how short their futures might be…

As if there wasn't already enough going on - the problems with Saint John, finding out if Le really was his brother's son or not, and now with Cait. Or maybe he had known and was trying to hold off the inevitable until things improved. Whatever the case he was of no help any longer and the rest of them had to deal with it now.

Walking across the dimly lit cave, he laid a hand on the nose of the predator-like helicopter, running it along the side to the handle, pulling it open and letting out a whoosh of air from the pressurized cabin as he did so.

"It's just you and me this time," he said aloud as he brought the systems online, checking to make sure everything was in good running order.

The moment his hands touched the cyclic and collective, he could feel a surge of power run through him - she was ready and rarin' to go. Question was - was he?

The setting sun peaked over the top of the chimney as he rose up, causing the Lady's exterior to shine brilliantly in the late afternoon light.

He could imagine himself down below, gaping in awe at how tiny and insignificant he was in the valley where God's creation and man's met. He only hoped he would live to see it again.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

Whipping through the canyons like a wolf chasing its prey, the sleek helicopter disappeared under cover of darkness as the sunset beyond the horizon and the time of the ultimate battle drew nearer.

Without turbos it took the better part of an hour to get back to the cabin and find a suitable landing place, but when he finally did make it back there was a dinner fit for a kind awaiting him. And, probably much to Dom's chagrin, it was comprised mainly of things he would actually eat.

"What is this - my last supper?"

"It better not be," Saint John answered, "I just got here and was planning on sticking around; it just wouldn't be the same without my little brother though."

"Hey, not that little anymore."

"Just start stuffing your faces already and stop fighting. The Board will give you plenty of practice when they come."

Le ran up to join them and all five crowded around the table, quickly devouring all the food.

They were debating over who should get the last piece of garlic bread when Michael's voice came over the radio in the other room. Suddenly the bread was forgotten and everyone rushed into the living room.

"Hawke, anyone there?" the person on the other end of the shaky radio connection asked.

"I'm here," String answered, being the first one to get to it.

"I heard the Board of Executives is on its way, is it true? And they've ordered the whole family killed? How did you manage to get into that much trouble? I've only been gone a matter of hours."

"I have a talent, what else can I say?"

"You need to get out of the cabin, probably the country tonight, Hawke."

Can't. We're going to fight them."

"Fight them?! Are you mad?! I know what you can do, and you have a truly respectable ability, but you can't go against them. I don't think you understand what you're volunteering for."

"There isn't a choice."

"The only choice there is in going against them is you're choosing to get yourself killed for no good reason. They have the most advanced technology, much of which I wouldn't know about - too far above my clearance level. This is beyond Airwolf, not to mention how many of them you might have to go against. Isn't there some other way?"

"None that I can come up with, but if you have any I'm open to suggestions."

"I can't _make _you choose not to fight them. Other than that, make sure you utilize every advantage you have. No living person knows Airwolf and its capabilities better than you, so pick the battle field and make them come to you, and don't be afraid to play dirty."

"I will."

"And Hawke…"

"Yeah Michael?"

"Good luck, you'll need it."

"Thanks," he replied. Despite all the tips and good luck he was supposedly getting, he was becoming more and more concerned that he really was in over his head.

\A/

It was still cool and dark when he woke, making the appeal of the quilts on top of him even greater, but when he heard the quick steps of Le running up the stairs he knew something was wrong.

"Uncle String, I think you're coming!"

"Suddenly the fact the cabin was freezing and it was only five in the morning had no bearing whatsoever, He practically lept out of the bed, pulling on a long-sleeved shirt and flight suit, running down the stairs as he pulled his boots on.

"Dom, I…" he stopped short, unsure of exactly what to ask of them.

He didn't want to put their lives in harm's way in what was looking more and more like a suicide mission. Chances were they'd be killed anyway if he failed though, and the odds were slim enough _with _their help. But their was Saint John too… this sure wasn't going to do good things for his nightmare problem and Le…

Lexa entered the room, interrupting his thoughts as usual.

"Hawke, and Santini, get in Airwolf before it gets blown up.

"Saint John, Le, and I have the cabin. I already know where you keep about everything, but is there anything extra I should know about? And what if at all possible don't you want destroyed?"

"I'd _like _nothing to be destroyed, but most importantly the family, Tet, and the Strad, followed by the pictures and paintings - you know, the irreplaceable stuff."

"I'll see what I can do. Now go on, you should've been out there five minutes ago."

"I wasn't awake five minutes ago," he grumbled, heading out the door with Dom right behind.

"Alright, the three of us are in charge of making sure this place doesn't get completely leveled. Le, I want you upstairs, back window; you're lookout and take the shot gun with you."

"But I don't-"

"Just don't shoot anyone you know and you'll be fine." She turned to the elder Hawke brother and offered him the briefest of sympathetic looks. "Sorry to get you involved, but you didn't take Danisha's advice so you get to play don't let the baddies storm the house too. I assume by now you know where the guns are. Take your pick and take your aim. I'll take the side of the cabin; you get the front."

Saint John obeyed, not used to doing much else, but wondered how easily they had gotten in the current mess to start with.

The sun was just beginning to rise over the lake when a modified SA341 Gazelle and two other unidentifiable aircraft came in, the first bringing ground infantry and the others carrying enough ordnance to supply their own war.

"We'll have them swarming all over here in about two minutes, but we don't have enough people to do a preemptive attack first so make sure you're ready to stand your ground," Lexa ordered.

\A/

The transport helicopter dropped a seemingly endless swarm of soldiers that expertly dispersed, surrounding the cabin. Above, Dom attempted to identify the opposing helicopter without much success.

"Got an ID yet?" Hawke asked, bringing Airwolf up from behind the trees.

"No."

No? He paused for the briefest of seconds, used to having Dom immediately reading off the specs.

"I can't identify them, honestly I've never seen anything like 'em."

The Lady portrayed sleekness, beautiful yet deadly, a predator in appearance_, then _you brought out the big guns. This though…. It didn't have _quite _the beauty although not unattractive, but it was a fighting machine, no doubt about it.

"I can tell you this though - she's loaded with everything we've got, maybe more of it, and she was built for speed."

"Turbos?"

"I'm still trying to figure that out."

"Hurry," he urged, drawing in a deep breath. It could make a **big** diference.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

"I told you nothing good would come of running away from you problems at home," her brother admonished.

"You're supposed to be encouraging, not pointing out every dumb decision I've ever made," Caitlin rebutted pointedly.

"You asked for my opinion, I gave it to you."

"So what do you suggest now that I've done it again? Do I try to fix my problems at home, an unlikely task that will take the rest of my life to complete, or do I go back to Van Nuys and show 'em who's boss? Or should I accept the mistakes and just move and hopefully get it right next time?"

"A rancher. You know, that's what you always said you wanted to be when you grew up until you found out how much work it was. You said that you wanted to do something exciting, something not everyone gets to do. A chopper pilot seems like a closer fit there, but you know I failed my psychology class, so take this however you see fit."

"Can you just get to the part where you impart great wisdom?"

"I'm working on it, impatient as always," he grumbled. "Do you love him?"

"Do I what? Who? That has nothing to do with anything," she retorted, blushing.

"Hawke, and it does have a lot to do with it."

"What do you even know of Hawke? You haven't even met him!"

"No," he allowed. "I haven't, but you talk about him constantly. I think you should at least go back and try to make amends, explain why you left, even if you aren't planning to stay."

"I can't just go back then leave again," Caitlin objected.

"Then stay there. You aren't going to patch up the relationship with our parents until you think that you can. Go back to Van Nuys; if you beg enough you could probably get you job back. Repair whatever damages there are to the friendships you have and make the most of it."

"You make it sound so simple and easy."

"To me, it is. But I'm just the innocent bystander, remember?"

"He's a great guy - can be funny, he's loyal to a fault, hardworking, values family, all the important things. But at the same time he can be so self-centered, stubborn, over focused, and downright hard to get along with. I don't know if we could ever make anything of it because of the way he is, the way I am. We both want things instantly and remain completely focused on that thing until it happens, there's no give and take on either side."

"There's one way to find out. I don't want to see you hurt, but if he's half the man you've said he is, now or in the past, he'll care for you and even if it doesn't work out he'll do all he can to make it easier on you."

"There's one more problem."

"There always is, isn't there?"

"I can't just 'make a go of it' with Hawke. He's had a rough past has pretty much decided he'll never have a completely happy life, a sort of self-imposed solitude. If it weren't for Dom and the search for his brother I think he would've given up on the rest of the world and lived the remainder of his life alone at the cabin with Tet."

"You always have to pick the difficult ones, don't you?"

"Hey, I don't see you happily married with twelve kids yet either."

"At least I've got a steady girlfriend."

"Oh, be quiet. You've known her, what, three weeks?"

"Longer than that."

"Oh?"

"Four weeks and two days."

"That hardly qualifies as steady," Caitlin argued.

"Steadier than yours," he teased.

"Why I otta…"

\A/

"Missile, infrared, on our tail; impact in ten seconds," Dom warned.

"Drop a sunburst at three."

The missile took the decoy, and both men breathed out a sigh of relief.

Taking Dom with him, although not entirely his own decision, was the right one he knew. Chances were he wouldn't still be around right now otherwise. They'd already had a couple narrow escapes, and that was more than enough for him.

"Another one coming up behind us fast," Dom advised.

"Load a Copperhead."

"You got it."

Abruptly dropping down just above the treetops and heading the same direction they took toward the Valley; he evaded the first missile easily, but the second dogged on closer and closer.

"Three seconds."

"I know."

By now he was deeply regretting the shirt underneath his flight suit. Under usual circumstances it would have been a great idea, but today was different. Considering how cold it was, he couldn't understand why he seemed to be emanating such a great amount of heat, but he was. His shoulders were in a constant state of tension and he barely had a chance to breath. Stress from the importance of the task at hand threatened to overwhelm him and the fear of what would happen if he failed in turn produced more stress. The weight of his closest friends and family's survival was on him and him alone, but he had no choice but to put that aside to worry about later.

"Two… one…"

The entire cockpit shook as Hawke hit full reverse turbos and swung the around as the missile exploded into the mountainside.

"That was a close one, String."

"Yeah, almost too close."

Hitting the turbos again, they shot forward after the enemy helicopter.

"Watch the fuel consumption of we're going to be done for."

"Hellfire," Hawke requested, making no comment on Dom's warning.

"Did you hear me?" Dom questioned even as he brought up the requested missile.

No response.

"String? Are you still with me?"

They continued to fly above the mesa tops with the Board's helicopters, now being identified by Airwolf's computers as "Valkyries," not far behind, but he finally let up on the turbos, allowing the others to catch up.

"When I call for it, I need full turbos again, and I'm going to drop down into the canyon."

"I'd really rather you didn't. We're already low on fuel, and personally I'm not all that fond of mach plus fifty feet off the deck."

"Maybe less."

"Less?! No. I know you're a good pilot, and none of us are going to live forever, but I'd like to live as long as possible."

"No choice. We can't out run them long and we can't out shoot them, so we have to out fly them."

"I just hope you know what you're doing."

"Me too."

"You want them now?" Dom asked.

"Not yet." He let them gain on Airwolf, waiting for the last possible minute.

"They're within missile lock range now," Dominic cautioned.

"Pray they don't throw anything at us."

"String, I think he's lining up for the kill."

"Full turbos."

"You got them." He slid the lever up on the back, giving the pilot complete control of the turbos.

They shot back so suddenly it jerked them back in their seats; the Valkyries followed.

"Oh, damn."

"They're faster than I thought."

"But they can't outrun us though, right?"

"No, I don't think so, but they aren't going to be far behind either."

"That's all the better."

He dropped into a rough canyon, flying so low it seemed if he'd been any lower he would have been skimming whatever underbrush that might've otherwise survived the heat. They swung around a rock outcropping at impossible speeds, the landscape merging into a blur of red-orange as they neared the end of the gorge.

"Pull out, pull out already."

Not yet."

Every second the steep rock wall rushed closer toward them at an ever-increasing speed.

"String!"

He pulled out, less than a foot of clearance between Airwolf's belly and the canyon wall, a visible release of stress evident as the first Valkyrie crashed into the mountainside, exploding upon impact.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Dashing through the airport before she could change her mind, Caitlin ran head long into the person in front of her, nearly knocking him down.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized, scrambling to pick up her dropped bags. "I should've have been looking where I was-"

"Where you were going?" Michael finished for her with a smile. "That probably would be a good idea. Not just everyone would take it so lightly."

"I'll… I'll try to be more careful. If you don't mind me asking, what are you doing here?"

"Hoping to keep Hawk from getting himself killed. I'm just worried that I'm too late."

"Why? What's going on?" Cait asked, concern suddenly washing over her.

"Saint John has been found so Zeus made the mistake of demanding Airwolf back, and Hawke refused."

"Why? He's known he'll have to give it back all along."

"Personally, I'm not sure he actually thought it would ever come down to that. The other reason was because Zeus hunted him down and _demanded _it back, not to mention everyone he typically dealt with was suddenly gone. In his place, I would have been more than just a little suspicious too."

"I don't blame him there I guess."

"Walk with me," Michael requested. "It's a complicated story and I don't have time to explain all the details, but here are the basics.

"There's a group above the FIRM; they call themselves the Board of Executives, and they most definitely have let that title go to their heads. Very few people know about it, and they'd like to keep it that way, but for some reason they have taken a special interest in Zeus' case against Hawke. Since he wouldn't give up Airwolf without getting some explanations, they've decided to send the US's finest after him."

"A little hard to send the best after him if he's already got it," she retorted.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Michael answered somberly.

"What do you mean? Airwolf is the best."

"Everything is eventually outdated, Caitlin, and while Airwolf is still far from that, technology is beginning to catch up. The Board will send out an elite team with specially trained men, some of the finest in the world; it is also usually accompanied by two other helicopters - Valkyries as they're called. They don't quite have Airwolf's speed, but they've got every bit as much armament and all the latest computer systems I was still trying to convince the Committee to let me have put on Airwolf and the finest pilots in the United States."

"Oh."

"If Hawke is going to beat the m, he's going to need to be on the top of his game with Airwolf in peak condition, and still the odds aren't in his favor while there's two of them."

\A/

"You got him good."

"But there's still one to go. How much fuel do we have left?"

"_Maybe _enough to make it back to the cabin if we don't take a bunch of detours; it's iffy though."

"And armament?"

"Two Copperheads and a sunburst."

"Anything else?"

"No, that's it."

"Any idea what the ceiling is for one of those things?"

"Oh no, I already don't like where this is going. Helicopters just ain't meant to go up that high, not to mention what's gonna happen if you pass out. This guy is good String, and he didn't get there by-"

"Check oxygen and pressurization levels."

"Momma mia," Dom said, rolling his eyes heavenward, "what are we getting ourselves into? You know, I said we have enough fuel if we _don't_ fly like crazy people."

"We have to loose the tail before we can worry about the fuel. I don't think they're going to sit around and wait on us to refuel."

"Point taken, but what are you going to do if we get to eighty thousand feet and run out of gas?"

"We won't. Give me turbos in five thousand feet."

"You've got them when you're ready," Dominic answered, all the while keeping a wary eye on the fuel gage.

\A/

"Hawke, Dominic, you there?" Michael asked.

"Where else would we be?"

"Seventy thousand feet," Dom read off in the background.

"How long have you-"

"You going to tell me something important or not? Because I'm a little preoccupied at the moment."

"Eighty thousand."

"Are you at eighty thousand feet in Airwolf?! What do you-"

"Can't talk at the moment," Hawke cut him off, unable to end the radio connection though for the strength it was taking to keep them in the air.

"Eighty six, and it looks like the others are giving up."

"Me, too, let's get back down to some thicker air. Turbos again at forty thousand.'

Their rapid assent leveled off then abruptly started downward again.

Nearing forty thousand, Dom's voice broke through again. "I think we've got him - there's no control whatsoever…" he stopped mid-word. "No wait, String, he's bringing out the guns again.

"Hope he misses."

Gunfire ricocheted off the fuselage in steady cadences then broke for a brief moment as the pilot in the enemy helicopter changed ammunition.

"50mm - that can…"

"I know, and it's going to."

He had only enough time to realize it but not do anything about it before the 50mm shells penetrated the metallic body of the helicopter.

"Switch to internal oxygen, that'll mess up our pressurization," he instructed as he lowered the visor on his helmet. "They're stalling out, we just have to get ourselves down in one piece now."

"Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he either doesn't know that yet or he's intent on taking us down with him." More gunfire volleyed across the Lady's hide, aiming for no place in particular as the Valkyrie grew dangerously closer.

"They're going to be up our six if they don't slow down."

"I don't think they can."

The trouble was, with them that close behind neither could he.

No matter what he tried to do to evade them they only seemed to get closer and he was running out of room to land.

"Dom, what've we got nearby with a runway or long, flat strip of land?"

"Give me just a second." He punched in a search, but wasn't coming up with much in the way of results. "Nothing that close. Best thing I could find id between the hills a couple miles ahead, not amazingly smooth, but mostly flat."

"It'll have to de. Lower the landing gear."

Dom did as he was instructed and lowered it, by now being happy with landing in more or less one piece no matter how rough.

Hawke lined them up, coming in far faster than would have been ideal.

"Is the landing gear going to hold?" Dom question uncertainly.

"I don't know," Hawke replied honestly. "It better."

The ground continued rushing up at an alarming speed, the Board helicopter right behind.

The whole frame of the aircraft shuttered as they hit the ground, an abrupt halt to the rapid descent that slammed them forward into the instrument panel and engineer's console.

"You okay?" Dom checked once he found his breath, head still pounding.

"Couldn't be better," he answered, still struggling to draw precious air onto his oxygen deprived lungs as he guided Airwolf along the rough ground to a stop. "We get it?"

"Nothing but little pieces - couldn't pull out in time."

"Good. You want to take over now? I'm exhausted." At this point there was no purpose in trying to pretend anymore. He wanted nothing more than to be back at the cabin left along to sleep until at least until at least late tomorrow, but currently he'd happily settle for the cockpit without much protest.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Dom asked concernly as he climbed around into the co-pilot's seat. "You really don't look so hot."

"It could have been a better morning, but I'm fine now. I just want to get some sleep."

"Alright," Dominic acquiesced, hoping that really was all there was to it.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

"Hawke? Dominic?"

No answer.

"Anyone there?" He tried again without any more success. "I think we lost them." Why they might've lost them was what worried him though.

He wanted to be able to get out there, to find out was what was going on and hopefully be able to help, but since he wasn't even supposed to be here he doubted the Committee was going to be loaning him very many helicopters.

"Do you think…" she didn't want to say it, didn't even want to think about it, but it was too late for that.

"I-I," he couldn't bring himself to say it. He wanted to tell her everything was fine, that it would all work out alright, but what if it didn't?"

The Valkyries were nothing to laugh about and even Hawke with Airwolf might've very well met their match. All he could do was hope they hadn't and wait for some news, not that he would be very high on the lost of people to share the news with since no one but Caitlin knew he was even back in the states again.

"When were they expecting you back?"

"I'm not sure they were. I just left, no explanations, and it sure wasn't a round trip ticket."

"You weren't planning on coming back?" he asked, surprise evident in his tone.

"I was undecided; it's a long story."

"We could be here for a while."

She let out a deep sigh, "why does it matter?" she asked defensively, but it was already obvious she was going to tell him everything.

"You tell me. You're part of the team and part of the family, it matters what happens to you."

"I was having a few personal problems and decided to go back home for a while to sort things out."

"But you're all sorted out now?"

"Not really," she admitted, "but it is better."

"Anything I can do to help? I may not be a professional expert on these things, but I've had a bit of life experience, maybe I can tell you what not to do."

"I don't know, I'm making things seem like a bigger deal than they are - stupid things really - I'll get over it."

"But you aren't going to tell anyone about it so they can help you, I already see why it became so confusing in the first place."

"No, it's not that. I just don't want to tell _you."_

"So you don't trust me?"

"I-I do. If it makes you feel any better, I don't want to talk about it with Dom, and certainly not String about it either."

"Who am I going to tell? I work with a bunch of stuffy old men in suits who couldn't wouldn't give a care unless it has something to do with national security or their jobs, save maybe the Admiral, but he'd be more interested in you than your significant other anyway."

"Who even said it had anything to do with a 'significant other' anyway?" Caitlin asked, blushing.

"You just did. Now what is it?"

"It's not really that. Mostly Hawke has just been driving me crazy lately."

"When isn't he driving someone crazy?"

"I mean, he's been over considerate, and I didn't even know that was possible."

"From him or in general?"

Ignoring the jibe, she continued, "he has been so obsessive making sure his brother is taken care of that he shuts out the rest of the world when they need him most. It bothers me to see him treat Dom like that after all he's done for him, and Dom just takes it. What he does is his business I guess, but I don't see how he can when it's driving me mad and most of the time it's not even towards me."

"I can actually understand what you mean. Once he gets something, anything, into his head it's near impossible to convince him of anything else. And he did spend years looking for Saint John when no one else believed he was alive, you have to keep that in mind. Other than that, all I can do is warn you. I've know him for a while and he hasn't changed much, and I doubt he will in the future. You either have to get used to beating your head against a wall or move on. I don't want you to leave, and I doubt any of the others want you too either, but I think we'd all agree we would rather you were happy."

"Does it ever get any easier? The walls you're banging your head against any softer?"

"I have this theory that if you keep banging your head against the wall long enough you will eventually break through the wall. Of course, it the wall is really solid you might only succeed in pounding your head in, but that is beside the point."

\A/

Since the lair was closer than the cabin and they were already on fumes, Dominic decided to take the Lady back to the lair and fly back in the Jet Ranger they had left their.

By the time he had descended down the chimney and powered Airwolf down all in the matter of minutes, he was surprised to find String asleep, still sitting in the pilot's seat.

"Hey String, you ready to go? Cause I ain't about to carry you all the way over there."

Drowsily the younger man moved from Airwolf to the Jet Ranger, already asleep again by the time Dom had joined him a moment later.

The back was a long, silent one, seeming a lot longer than the hour flight it was. Finally he landed at the cabin, this time less surprised to find String asleep but just as worried.

He was just tired after a stressful morning, he kept telling himself repeatedly. What else could he be? It just seemed odd the way he went from extreme focus to sleeping heavily in less than a minute. Maybe it really had taken that much out of him though; after all, he hadn't been the one flying mach barely off the deck through a rocky canyon, so how would he know? It still seemed a little extreme though, at least to him. But for all he knew String hadn't slept well for a few nights before hand, that wouldn't have been unlikely the way everyone's life had been dumped upside down and backwards lately.


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

Sitting bolt upright on the living room couch, Saint John ran a weary hand through his damp hair, wondering if he would ever be able to rid himself of these nightmares. Thinking back, he could only come up with a one night halfway recently he'd slept decently - the night String had spent most of the evening playing the cello up in the loft.

He couldn't ask his brother to put on a performance for him on a regular basis though, and that wouldn't help him tonight anyway. He doubted he could keep String awake that long. They'd all had a rough day, but by the time Dom had brought his brother home they'd practically had to carry him to bed because he couldn't manage to stay away long enough to do it on his own. A warm bath and a celebratory dinner was in order, but no one bothered even trying, knowing it already to be a lost cause. Some sleep would do them all good and maybe they could do something in the morning.

Assuming he could ever get back to sleep, he thought dejectedly.

Carefully making his way through the maze of people sprawled across the floor, he went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water before rifling through the cabinet. Finding a prescription bottle of sleeping pills that hadn't even been opened yet. He took two and finished off the glass of water before heading back to the living room

Laying down again, he let his mind drift until the sedative took effect and he finally fell asleep again.

\A/

It was late morning by the time he awoke again, feeling the most rested he had been in weeks, but still ashamed he had had to resort to medication to get it. The mass of people in the living room floor had cleared and hope of normality hung in the air. It still seemed awfully quiet though, not that he was complaining, but considering how many people were staying in a one-bedroom cabin…

Slowly he pushed up off the sofa to find out what had happened to everyone else. Walking outside, he found one of the Santini Air Jet Rangers gone and no one in sight. Had the others just left him here?

Stepping back inside, he heard something rustling around upstairs and knew that he hadn't been left completely alone.

A moment later his brother started sleepily down the stairs.

"Good morning," he greeted, only to be acknowledged by a weak grunt.

"Do you know where everyone one else went?"

"Does it matter?"

"It might. What's got you so grumpy today? I was the one up all night."

"And I was the one that nearly got blown apart yesterday, crashed Airwolf, and could have ended up killing everybody. What's your point?"

"Never mind." He turned back toward the kitchen to look for a note or some hint to where the others might've gone. Everything looked back to normal though, no sign that any of them had ever been here in the first place.

"Santini Air to cabin," Dominic's voice crackled through the radio, "anyone up yet over there?"

So that was what happened to them.

"We're up," Saint John radioed back, "just barely."

"Well it's about time. I could have had an elephant marching through this morning and I don't think it would have woken either one of you. Cait's here and Michael too; am I able to give him a good report or are you two already up to something dastardly this morning?"

"Nothing yet, but it's still early."

"Not that early, it's nearly noon."

"Oh," he said, no yet realizing how late in the day it was getting. "We'll have to get to work on that then."

"Before you do, I wanted to ask if either of you wanted a ride into town or needed anything."

"Not as far as I know. I don't know what String's problem is this morning," he finished in a lower tone.

"He still acting kind of off?" Dom asked concernly.

"What do you mean _still_? I didn't notice anything earlier."

"It was yesterday. Probably just after effects of having a stressful day, and a day or two off will do him good. Just keep an eye on him, will ya?"

\A/

"I think I'm going to take a walk." "You want some company?" Saint John offered.

"I'd prefer to be left alone."

"Are you sure? I don't mind."

"Yes, I'm sure. That's how I usually go for walks - have for the last twelve years."

"Alright, alright. I get it, see you when you get back."

"Yeah."

Still wearing his pajamas, the younger Hawke started out the front door.

"Wait, don't you at least want to finish getting dressed?"

"Why bother? No one else is around." With that said, he continued out the door.

Saint John sighed as he watched String go. What else was he supposed to do?

As kids they had been inseparable, especially after their parents' deaths. He'd heard far too many times about friends and family that had grown apart over the years, some hardly on speaking terms with each other, and since then had made a kind of unwritten pact they wouldn't let that happen to them. And it had been working pretty well until he went MIA. For what seemed like forever he had hope they would be able to see each other again, for years he and wondered what had happened to his brother and surrogate father, wondering if he would ever get to see them again. Tome continued to go by thought and things only seemed to get worse instead of better; he lost hope. When everything had seemed lost, he found out they were to be executed - the end of his story. But then they had come for him, in the nick of time he had been rescued. Now things could only get better, he thought. And sometimes they were. Other times weren't so great. String had his own ghosts and problems, and he was far from being burden free himself. Could there previous relationship be restored though? Honestly, he didn't know.

He was trying, really he was. But every time they started to make some progress something would put them behind again. Between the nightmares, FIRM work, and family, interspersed with business at the hangar and the occasionally psycho trying to kill them all it was constantly hectic. There was hardly any time to address the problems before the brief calm lull would be abruptly interrupted once again. He needed to get truly back into society and stop mooching off his brother no matter how much String assured him he didn't mind, but he was afraid to, afraid of what would happen if it didn't work.

How could he get a decent job and be competent at it if he couldn't get any rest? Who would even want to hire him? What if Le turned out to be his kid? How in the world would he provide for them both when he wasn't even capable of taking care of himself?

Questions like these constantly bombarded him, achieving nothing more than making him more afraid of failure and leaving him with more questions and no more answers.


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

"_Missile inbound. Impact in ten seconds."_

_He swung Airwolf around the corner, but the missile followed._

"_Five seconds, four, three…"_

Shaking the memory away, Hawke continued down the path, beginning to pick up his pace.

"_Two… One…"_

_He pulled out, the missile barely missing them and exploding violently into the mountainside._

"_That one was cutting it close."_

"_Yeah, almost too close." What he meant was you almost got us both killed, that wasn't good enough; he had to do better._

This time he completely stopped, taking inventory of his surroundings. It was hottest part of the day, but with the early autumn breeze blowing in from the lake it actually felt pretty good. He had nothing but time currently…

Suddenly decided, he took off at a full out run on the inside path around the lake, concentrating on nothing but the path ahead of him. It didn't take his concentration long to be broken however.

_A single thought raced through his head - how many others were depending on him? Dom's for sure. Saint John, Le, and Lexa's weren't looking much better. He just couldn't allow himself to be out flown, no now, especially not now. It had been close though; how much longer could he keep this up and still expect to win?_

This time the stop was an unexpected jolt as he ran headlong into a pine tree.

Blinking blearily as he sat up again, he realized what he had done.

"Dammit, why can't I get these flashbacks out of my head?" he muttered under his breath as he picked himself up off the ground. And maybe running wasn't such a great idea either, he admitted sorely. This time more slowly, he started back toward the cabin.

Now he knew how Saint John felt, he thought, at least previously he had only had to relive his past in his sleep not during the day. He _needed _to get rid of this new problem, and quickly. If he could zone out like that running and run into a tree, who was to say next time he wouldn't be flying and fly straight into a mountainside, killing himself and anyone else riding with him? He was a danger to himself and everyone around him. As much as he hated to even think about the idea of hospitals or doctors of any kind, and especially shrinks, he really _needed _help.

By the time he made it back to the cabin he was really wondering about his sanity, but couldn't help but thinking what if the prognosis wasn't good? Would he be able to discipline himself enough to stay?

He didn't want to be a mindless zombie under continuous influence of some medication, he wouldn't. It would ruin his future as a pilot, his future as a semi normal human being, the relationship with his family. They'd probably decide the cabin wasn't a suitable home for him too. The more he thought about it the more decided against it he became. But what was he to do then?

"Have a good walk?" Saint John asked as he reentered the cabin, now with a pounding headache.

"Not really; I hit a tree." He'd told him before he ever had a chance to think twice about it.

"You what?" Saint John questions, suddenly looking rather confused.

"I…"

If he was going to tell anyone, who better than his brother? At least he should be able to understand.

"I kind of zoned out, keep remembering what happened yesterday, and what could have happened."

"You had a close one?"

"I'll put it this way, if it had been any closer I wouldn't be standing here today."

"Well, I can't offer you any amazing cure to your flashbacks, when I find one I'll be sure to test it out on myself, but I'm here to listen if you want to talk about it."

"I'm not really the 'sharing' kind of person, but I'm worried about myself honestly," he confided. "It was more of a challenge than I had expected, but we all made it out okay. I just can't get the images out of my head thought. In the past, it's only been in dreams. It's not this time though…. I can't focus on anything…

_At the last second he pulled out, less than a foot of clearance between Airwolf's belly and the canyon wall._

"Hey, snap out of it, String," Saint John ordered, shaking him out of the vision.

"Huh? Oh. See what I mean? I thought I could take you out of the hospital to here and you would get better on your own like I did, but what if I was wrong? I'm obviously not too great at taking care of myself after all."

"What do you want me to tell you?"

"That I'm being overly worried and everything is going to work out fine. And I want you to mean it. I just wish it was as simple as you telling me that."

"We could both check ourselves into the psych ward and risk never getting out," Saint John suggested, "or we could find a way to figure it out on our own. I believe there really are people that need medical help, but I also like to hope I'll never be one of those people. If I am, then so be it, but I'd like to try handling my problems on my own first."

"Sounds good to me, got any ideas on how we actually get past them though other than shooting ourselves and ending the misery?"

"Time helps, or so I've been told. The night after my little incident at the restaurant when you played the cello, that helped a lot too. Other than that, trying to get back into the flow of things might help get your mind off the past. I doubt Dom would mind having you back at the hangar, and I've been considering trying to find a job myself for a little while. I know it's not fair to expect you to provide for me forever."

"Money isn't a problem, if it were I could sell a painting and be set for life, I don't even have very many expenses living out here. But if you're looking for a job, I'm sure Dom could find you something to do at the hangar if you're interested."

"I don't expect you all to fit me in everything. I haven't been here for… I don't even know how long, but it's been a while, and I accept you've moved on without me. You can't constantly fit me into everything that you do. I haven't even flown in years, much less the fancy stuff he's doing. I couldn't possibly ask him to give me a job and then remedial flying lessons so I can do that job."

"You were one of the best back in 'Nam, that can't all be lost. You just need a little practice. When's the last time you flew?"

"I don't know, back in Vietnam or Cambodia before I got shot down. Truthfully, I'm not sure I could do it now - actually getting into the pilot's seat. It's been too long and too much has happened."

"Not too long, you'll see. Just shape up or I'll start you off in the Lady."

"Airwolf? That thing you all picked me up in? I don't think so. I _was _a _helicopter _pilot, not a _jet _pilot. You told me yourself there's only a limited few that can fly her."

"Not because it's hard though, because they don't know _how_ to fly her. You'll be surprised at how quickly you pick up things again, not to mention how much cheaper it'll be with your family in the business."

"You really think I could do it?"

"I know so." He drew in a deep breath as if drawing in all the possibilities and struggles the future held. "We're gonna make it work, all of it."


End file.
